


The Case That Was Barely a Three

by AlwaysJohn



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: All will be revealed., John is confused, M/M, Mycroft Being Mycroft, Sherlock is suspicious
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-14
Updated: 2019-07-14
Packaged: 2020-06-28 07:27:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 744
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19807531
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlwaysJohn/pseuds/AlwaysJohn
Summary: I hope you are agreeable to a bit more fluff. Any more details would be spoilers.





	The Case That Was Barely a Three

**Author's Note:**

> In this story, Mycroft is not the imperious, haughty supercilious, condescending, uppity, snooty arse we’ve grown to know and love. I found all these adjectives in my computer’s dictionary and I couldn’t choose one, so I just used them all. Apologies to Mycroft.

Mycroft offers them a little case not far from Baker Street. A theft at a tiny shop and barely a three; Sherlock is immediately suspicious, but agrees to take the case if only to avoid the inevitable sibling bullying and bickering.

“No, Sherlock,” John says, annoyance evident in his voice at the interruption, and his hands on hips stance. “And why is Mycroft calling? He always texts. Texts are so much easier to ignore.”

When the call ends, the doctor is waiting at the door, Sherlock’s coat and scarf in hand. He can hear John’s sigh from across the sitting room.

~~

Upon their arrival, Sherlock is more than suspicious, and John is confused, recalling aloud that it was not a shop but an empty one just two days prior when he passed by on his walk home from Tesco.

The elderly proprietor who greets them blathers on and on about the weather, and anything and everything except the theft.

“Please, take your time, look around. Do whatever it is that detectives do. Would you like tea?” she asks, smiling sweetly as only an elderly woman can. 

Before Sherlock has a chance to respond, the woman disappears. Seconds later the overhead lights dim to total darkness as strings of fairy lights appear around the shop and the opening bars of music fill the tiny space.

“I think Mycroft expects us to dance, John.”

“Yes, I think so. Did you know about this?”

Sherlock takes John’s hand and draws him against his chest. “I had my suspicions, but not exactly this.”

‘And I love you so

The people ask me how  
How I've lived till now  
I tell them I don't know  
I guess they understand  
How lonely life has been  
But life began again  
The day you took my hand.’

John giggles a bit when Sherlock pivots and dips them to the side. 

‘And yes, I know how lonely life can be  
The shadows follow me 'n' the night won't set me free  
But I don't let the evening get me down  
Now that you're around me.’

When Sherlock sighs into John’s golden hair, he feels his doctor tremble and pulls him tighter against his body.

‘And you love me, too  
Your thoughts are just for me  
You set my spirit free  
I'm happy that you do  
The book of life is brief  
And once a page is read  
All but love is dead  
That is my belief.’

Sherlock rests his cheek against John’s fair head and wishes the song would never end.

‘And yes, I know how lonely life can be  
The shadows follow me and the night won't set me free  
But I don't let the evening get me down  
Now that you're around me.’

As the music fades away, and is replaced by a soft violin instrumental, John surges up on his toes to capture Sherlock’s lips, lingering for long moments as they trade kisses.

When they return to the present moment, they discover a smiling Angelo, serving their dinner. As they seat themselves, Sherlock picks up an envelope addressed to both of them in his brother’s familiar vertical script, and offers it to John.

With a surgeon’s precise fingers, John slides the card from within.

“Oh,” John whispers, his eyes wide and his expression one of pleasant surprise. “It’s not a card, Sherlock, well, it’s a card, but it’s blank except for his ‘happy anniversary, brothers dear’ message. It’s what’s inside the card that’s important.”

“Oh?“

“It a small watercolor. A painting. Of us. Sitting in our chairs beside the fire.”

Sherlock’s pleased smile says more than his words might.

John grins. “Is he getting sentimental in his old age?”

“Ohhh, I think not, John. He always has an ulterior motive.”

“You know him better than anyone, well, except himself, what do you think he has up his sleeve? I mean, besides his arm.”

“Droll, John, quite droll.”

“Thank you.”

“I don’t know what his motive might be.”

“And you don’t like not knowing.”

“Exactly.”

“Can we give him the benefit of the doubt this one time?”

“If you wish, John, but only because it’s our anniversary.”

“Of course, my love. Five years..seems like forever.”

Sherlock quirks his brow upward. “I hope you mean that in a good way, John.”

“In the very best way, my love,” John promises, reaching across to fold his sturdy fingers around slender elegant ones.

“The very best way, my heart,” Sherlock whispers, holding fast.

**Author's Note:**

> And I Love You So - Don McLean, 1970
> 
> The only version I hear in my head is by Perry Como, 1973


End file.
